


Ephemeral

by Luckless_Salmon



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: AU, Byleth is a cool mercenary still, Dimitri is a hot mess, F/M, Mercedes is a saint in the flesh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-07-29 00:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckless_Salmon/pseuds/Luckless_Salmon
Summary: A series of moments, lost in time.(FE3H Dimitri/Byleth Drabbles < 1000 words each, too small to be considered works on their own; summary will be updated following each addition to represent new content. May contain spoilers).---21: Mercenary Byleth Eisner would have never imagined herself engaged to the addict-son of late King Lambert, but life loved to surprise her. AU.





	1. A Lesson in Sharing

“Ah Professor, I’m glad you are here, I had a question for-“

“Shut your mouth, Blaiddyd.”

Dimitri felt himself deflate a little, mouth falling agape at Byleth’s uncharacteristic irritation. “Excuse me?”

“I said,” the older woman hissed, placing a hand against Dimitri’s chest before roughly shoving him into the nearby wall, “shut up.”

Before the Faerghusian prince could utter another word, Byleth’s lips were pressed against his own, hands groping uselessly at the cords and buttons of his uniform. While not completely opposed to the advance, Dimitri was puzzled.

“Professor, what in the world- ah... what are you doing?” he gasped, tilting back his head as to allow Byleth greater access to his neck; she had moved on from invading his mouth to nibbling the sensitive skin around his Adam’s apple. 

Fixing Dimitri with a dark look, Byleth slowly raised her knee to apply pressure to his manhood; equal pleasure and pain. “Saw you with Marianne earlier, the two of you seemed pretty close.”

“Y-yes, considering I am House Leader and she was was recently recruited into the Blue Lions, I thought it prudent to get her aquatinted with how things work in our class,” Dimitri’s practically groaned, relishing the way Byleth’s sucked at the thin skin covering his carotid artery. “Need I remind you that you were the one who requested I do so?” 

“I do believe I suggested you help Marianne get settled in,” the Professor offered, pausing in her handiwork only momentarily. “Not to make goo-goo eyes at one another for an hour or more.”

Dimitri felt his stomach flip a little at the thought. Marianne was certainly beautiful, but copulation was the farthest thing from his mind when speaking with her (he had been more intrigued by her incredible ability to work with horses). Was Byleth... jealous, perhaps?

When Dimitri suggested as much, Byleth just pressed her knee harder into his crotch, nipped harder at his neck. 

“It seems as if our adorable new pupil may need a hint as to what is off limits in this classroom, hmm?,” the professor cooed in a sultry voice, one she used almost exclusively during their... escapades. 

Dimitri found he didn’t have it in himself to protest further when Byleth began to unbutton his pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was titled 'Sweet but Psycho' in my drafts, but that sounds a little tacky and not entirely fitting. I love me some rough kissing.
> 
> Also, unsure if y'all have seen that FE meme where Xander approaches Corrin like "Saw you with Ryoma... I WON'T HESITATE BITCH" but that's def. where I got Byleth's line from.


	2. Duscarian Roses

Elbow-deep in the dirt of Garreg Mach’s greenhouse, Byleth felt the sweet heat of rage burn in her belly. After all she had done for him- how she had stood and tolerated his deprecative remarks, accepted his demons as her own, offered her shoulder for him to cry on- he had to go and treat her like this.

Chivalry was dead.

At the end of the day, he really owed her nothing; he was the rightful king of a nation, while she was no more than a common professor and mercenary-for-hire. Perhaps she should have listened to Manuela’s veiled advice, that noble men were schemers and panty-chasers, no matter how convincing they seemed.

_But the way his icy blues had fixated on hers at the Goddess Tower five years prior, how he had admitted there was some truth in wishing they could be together forever..._

With a grievous huff, Byleth stabbed at a patch of weeds, taking out her fury on the invading foliage. How dare they attempt to snatch away her labor of love...

And to find out through the nervous tittering of Mercedes! The flustered woman had glanced rapidly between Byleth across the table from herself and Dimitri, who had been engrossed in conversation with a gorgeous young lass outside. The way he trailed his fingers across the young soldiers cheek...

Byleth recognized that action like the back of her hand (both from reality and her fantasies). She had politely excused herself after that, promising Mercedes a rain check before fleeing to the closest place she could find solace alone.

Was she truly so naive? Tears stung the back of Byleth’s eyes like pin pricks as she dug idly in the dirt. Times like this, she truly missed her father; he would tease her about her indiscretion, crying like a baby in the middle of the monastery over a boy. Jeralt did his best to raise a strong young woman, but he was not always the most sensitive about these sorts of things. The thought of her father awkwardly sweating, attempting to comfort his typically stoic daughter, almost caused Byleth to laugh.

Almost.

So lost in thought, the young woman failed to notice the heavy footsteps approaching from behind, crunching through the gravel. The person stood silently, observing from a few feet away until Byleth began to once again stab irately at the dirt of the planter-bed.

“Professor, you seem... upset,” a baritone voice noted blandly, moving to kneel beside her.

“Dedue,” Byleth greeted lowly, not daring to glance over at him and risk tears. “Come to tend the Duscurian flowers?”

Reaching over to pick up a small trowel Byleth had abandoned in the mud, he nodded. “Precisely.”

The two worked in comfortable silence, although Byleth spent the majority of the time staring blankly into space while Dedue pruned diligently. She was thankful for his company; gardening was a hobby they both enjoyed and it was nice to feel less alone.

“You know, roses like these are prized for their tenacity,” the man commented after some time, motioning to a bush of small white flowers. “The people of Duscar believed we could learn much from them.”

“Is that so?” Byleth inquired half-heartedly, gazing forlornly at the stout plant. It was ugly and small.

Dedue nodded solemnly, continuing. “Our circumstances will not always be conducive to us accomplishing our goals, much like the land will not always provide the nutrients and sunlight plants need to grow. Duscarian roses are a wonderful instance of life overcoming obstacles and flourishing despite such tribulations.”

“I... I see,” Byleth muttered, rolling the younger man’s words around in her skull. Dedue was poignant as always.

Wiping the dirt from his hands on his pants, Dedue rose to his feet. “I trust you will be able to finish up here on your own?”

It was more of a statement than a question, but Byleth replied anyways. “Of course.”

Giving the professor a terse nod, Dedue turned to leave. “Then I shall be off.”

Turning to gaze back at the small flower-bush, Byleth bit her lip. She had much to think about.  
—  
Two years later, on the morning of her wedding to Faerghus’s new king, Byleth received a small bouquet from Dedue, peppered with Duscarian roses.

“Much like a flower, you persevered for the sake of your dreams. May that tenacity stay with you, always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We... do not deserve Dedue.... also... why is Byleth's dad a DILF.... unreal.


	3. Your Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3: "I swear this has gotta be the hundredth time I've thought of you tonight." AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where Byleth and Dimitri were friends in HS; both ended up suffering from pretty severe mental illness and found comfort in one another, although it was platonic (Byleth has always had a huge crush on Dimitri though). He went off to college at Harvard while she does her best to get by working, going to school online, and taking care of a disabled Jeralt. It's now 3 years later, after he had graduated and... here's just their meeting after.

It had been three years but... he was here.

Older, more haggard, taller... different in so many ways, but Byleth would remember that blond mop of hair and those icy blues anywhere. 

She certainly recognized the way her heart was thumping in her chest.

—-

“Uncle and Auntie, they just don’t get it,” Dimitri muttered, taking a long swig of the energy drink-vodka combo the two were sharing. “They think that the system can be changed through sheer force of will alone. Ignorance at its finest.”

Byleth hummed noncommittally, taking a deep drag of the cigarette dangling between her fingers. She usually enjoyed listening to Dimitri’s tangents on social reform, admired the way his passion reflected itself in his eyes, but today she was just.... annoyed. Between the dread of her upcoming red-eye shift at the corner store and how the younger man kept glancing at his (brand-spanking new, extra large) smart-phone instead of listening, her patience was running thin. 

Still, her breath caught in her throat when their fingers brushed whilst trading vices, nicotine for alcohol. 

“Enough about me, what have you been up to Professor?” Dimitri inquired, a teasing lilt evident in his voice. It had been her nickname in high school, from when she had been employed as a tutor by wealthy families. The job had been hell on Earth, literally her worst employment decision to date, but it had introduced her to Dimitri, so she supposed things had equaled out.

“I’ve...” Byleth began, pausing as she organized her thoughts. Really, compared to Dimitri’s escapades at Harvard, she had accomplished nothing at all. Taking care of her paralyzed father, working multiple jobs, making slow progress on her bachelor’s online, none of it was very compelling. There was a lot of turmoil involved of course, but the two weren’t as close as they used to be. Considering how disinterested he appeared from her perch on the fire escape outside her apartment, she doubted he would want to hear about it. “I’ve just been doing the same-old Byleth stuff I guess.”

Shooting her a long look, Dimitri simply nodded, taking a long puff on the cancer stick before stomping it out under his foot. At the time, Byleth’s tipsy brain couldn’t comprehend just what such a facial expression could mean; later, she wouldn’t be able to get it out of her mind. The tendency to overanalyze ran in her family.

“I suppose I should get going,” the blonde man stated after a few moments of silence. “I promised I would meet up with Dedue and Felix before picking up Flayn from the airport later.”

Flayn...? Byleth wracked her brain for that name, acidic jealously flaring up in her belly upon remembering it was Dimitri’s girlfriend, albeit an arranged one. The Blaiddyd’s were especially religious, and thought it prudent their eldest son become aquatinted with a well-established member of the church. She knew very little of the woman other than that she hated her.

Rather than comment on her acrimonious feelings, Byleth just shrugged. “Oh, alright. See you later I guess.”

Dimitri once again looked up at Byleth, fixing her with that same stare. She could practically pick out the white flecks in his irises with how intently he was gazing at her. “Definitely. Stay sa- uh, well take care of yourself.”

Byleth almost laughed; Dimitri sounded like her old man, always worried about her safety. Contrary to her appearance, she was well-trained in self-defense, had never lost a fight. There was nothing to scared of here, anyways, other than some homeless old guys and tweakers. So used to brushing off Jeralts’s fretting, she replied without a second thought. “You know I always do, love ya.”

The words had escaped her mouth before they registered in her brain, but the flush on her cheeks spared no time in registering. How could she be such a  _ fucking idiot! _

Without a second glance at the young man beneath her, Byleth yanked herself up from her seated position and bolted up the stairs. She was typically pretty cautious ascending the rickety old structure, but her fight-or-flight mode had kicked in; there was  _ no way _ she wouldn’t implode in embarrassment if she had to see the look of disgust on Dimitri’s face. 

\---

Perhaps if she had, she would have noted the rosy flush on Dimitri’s own cheeks.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written an AU since like when I would write Naruto fan fiction as a high-schooler. Unsure if people actually like that kind of stuff, but this popped in my head while listening to a cover of Your Graduation by Stand Atlantic (which is really a very good song and sets the tone for this). If you have a spare moment, please let me know your thoughts on it! Love to hear them. Thank you for reading!


	4. My Little Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth has her first dance as a married woman and thinks of her father.

The banquet hall was brilliant, bursting with pinks and whites and golds; daisy-chains were draped upon chairs, wrapped around the legs of tables, displayed anywhere vendors could reach. It was a rare opportunity to be able to supply flowers for a royal wedding, and the merchants in Fódlan were not about to miss the opportunity

Against this backdrop, the cobalt blue sigil of House Blaiddyd stood out starkly. Despite the desperate pleas of Mercedes (and Annette and Ingrid, and even Manuela at some point) to leave the emblem out, or at least change the color scheme to better accommodate that of the reception, Byleth had refused. Blaiddyd was the family of her beloved, the royal family of Faerghus, and the name she would soon take herself; desecrating it in any way was disrespectful. While Dimitri had said nothing on the subject, choosing to leave the wedding planning to those with a sense of fashion, Byleth could tell he was silently pleased with the decision.

Now, weeks after such discussions, she stood arm-in-arm with her new husband on the edge of the ballroom floor. The ceremony had been short but sweet; Dimitri had even teared up during their vows, surprising everyone but Byleth herself. Following the formalities, all were welcome to join the new royal couple in celebrating their nuptials; festivities occurred throughout Fhirdiad, spreading from the castle to the edges of the capital.

According to tradition, the first dance of the evening would belong to the bride and her father, joined soon after by the groom and his mother. With circumstances considered, however, the two royals had decided to leave it up to chance as to who would take the floor first.

That is, that is what Byleth thought their plan was until Alois approached.

“I-I’m not your father, Byleth, not even close,” Alois stated softly, bowing his head before extending a gloved hand. “But it would be my honor to act in his place; he requested as much before his untimely end. May I have this dance?”

Byleth felt her breath catch in her throat, thoughts racing a million miles per hour. Of course her father would have considered this, the same way he thought about everything. She remembered as a child, she had heard fellow mercenaries whispering about how Jeralt was constantly ‘100 steps ahead;’ this was perhaps the first time she had experienced it herself, however. The way he had gifted Byleth her mother’s wedding ring, the subtle mentions of finding someone special to share her life with... had he known all along? 

A calloused hand touched the small of her back, gently encouraging her to move forward. Glancing up, she saw Dimitri’s cerulean eye staring back, full of warmth. 

“Go on then,” he whispered, “I’m sure he’s watching up there, waiting with bated breath."

Blythe swallowed hard, nodding before slowly reaching out to accept Alois’s hand.

In that grasp, she swore she felt a bit of her father squeeze back. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love Jeralt.... you can bet your bum I'm gonna be writing more father-daughter interaction in the future. Thanks for taking the time to read!


	5. Stillborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something poignant about this moment.

When the midwife came to them with a wavering voice and teary eyes, Byleth felt Dimitri squeeze her hand harder than ever before. They both knew what it meant.

“I’m so sorry, your Highness, your Grace,” she had murmured, hanging her head low. “But there was nothing we could do. He had gone too long without oxygen. Even if resuscitated...”

Byleth watched as Dimitri’s mouth fell into a small ‘o,’ the realization that their baby had been- was, she corrected- a boy hitting him like a ton of bricks. They had bickered about the gender of their child constantly; although it had all been in good fun, Dimitri had been insistent that the little one growing inside of her was a boy.

_ “Father’s intuition,” he would tout haughtily, placing a hand on the swell of her belly. He spoke to the child often, mostly in inaudible whispers when he perceived her to be asleep (little did he realize she rarely rested anymore). _

_ “Pretty sure it’s supposed to be mother’s intuition,” Byleth would reply with a soft giggle, gently placing her hand upon his own. “But if it makes you sleep more soundly at night, go on.” _

Now, with her thighs caked with blood and exhaustion tugging at the edge of her consciousness, such conversations felt silly, infantile. Rather than focus on the gender of the child, they should have dedicated their efforts to praying for it’s safe arrival into the world. 

“-need to prepare the body for burial, but wanted to know if you would like to see him first.”

Without turning to her spouse for input, Byleth nodded vigorously. She would not lay her son to rest without greeting him first; if Dimitri disagreed, he was free to leave the room. Months of blood, sweat, and tears had not been dedicated to this child only for him to disappear like a specter. Besides, she wanted to see the child her father would raise in her stead, on the other side.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Dimitri as a nurse settled a wrapped bundle into Byleth’s arms. Lambert, their son, was beautiful; he had vibrant, blond hair like his father, but with the high, delicate cheekbones of his mother. Despite being stillborn, he was perfect in every way, with zero birthmarks or deformities of any sort.

Byleth felt absolutely empty as she gazed at her son. Whether it was due to fatigue, shock, or her stoic demeanor making a surprise reappearance, the result was the same: tears would not come. Even as Dimitri’s hands begin to tremble, as she felt his tears wet her unkempt hair, Byleth felt nothing at all.

The next week passed in a whirlwind. Lambert was buried next to her own father and mother, a request Dimitri gave into with little prodding. Her husband was absolutely devastated by the turn of events; when he was not attempting to offer her half-hearted support, he could be found hacking away at a training dummy in the exercise yard. The dark bags under his eyes told a story not shared by his lips, but he refrained from sharing his grief with Byleth. Despite her best efforts, she was unable to convince him otherwise.

—

Sothis was benevolent, but her ways were a mystery even to the archbishop, or so Mercedes would say later. The two of them stood side-by-side in front of the monastery alter, although neither had made any attempt to pray. It was quiet, and gave Byleth a reprieve from the empty condolences shared by many churchgoers. While she knew their hearts were in the right place, she still felt vaguely apathetic about the entire situation. Their words of comfort just made everything worse. 

“We cannot control how we feel about these sorts of things,” Mercedes continued in her melodious voice, clasping her hands together. “but can only assume the goddess provides us tragedy in order for us to grow. At the end of the day, we can choose to rise above or fall. What will you do, Professor?”

Byleth didn’t know.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as if I need to stop cranking this material out every day; quantity doesn't equal quality. This is a topic I've had in my mind for some time, and am debating on turning it into a larger piece that examines Dimitri and Byleth's relationship if they were to lose their first child. I am actually far more prone to write depressing material than sappy fluff, so it would allow me to spread my wings so to speak.
> 
> I like to watch these fools suffer. Thanks for reading!


	6. Conseqeunces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loving you was young and wild and free.  
Loving you was cool and hot and sweet.  
Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses.  
But loving you had consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place at the beginning of part two, that time when Dimitri acts like such a DOLL and SO SWEET.

Byleth found she couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat.

_ “It’s okay Professor, he’ll come around,” Ingrid attempted to console, nervously licking her lips. They were chapped and broken, likely from constant chewing. Usually Byleth would offer a soft chide, reminding the younger woman to take care of herself, but who was she to comment on the livelihood of others when she couldn’t even take care herself? _

The loss of her father was still raw; perhaps five years had passed, but it certainly didn’t feel like it, not when she had spent most of it floating in a lightless void. Her heart still yearned for the young man who had left plates of sweets at her door, who had wiped away her heavy tears at the chapel late at night when sobs wracked her chest.

Little remained of that person, though. 

It had been a mistake, coming to rely on Dimitri so heavily. He was just a teenager, not yet past pubescence, and desperately in love with the professor who heaped praise on him so readily. She had been young too, but somewhere deep down, Byleth had known something was wrong, she was being manipulative. Of course a man orphaned as a child- a boy who lost his entire world in the most tragic way-would be drawn to a warm, open hand.

Jeralt had said as much. 

But Byleth had waved off her father’s concerns, too caught up in the way her pulse would speed up each time the Faerghasian Prince approached. Then, when Jeralt had passed, Dimitri had pledged himself to her, had stammered and stuttered his way through a half-way confession of devotion. 

Later, with the two of them squished together on Dimitri’s twin bed, his lanky limbs awkwardly entangled with her own, she had never felt so alive. Had she had a heart beat, it would have pounded against her ribcage as he pressed his lips to her own.

Looking back, she should have stopped him, should have begged Sothis to turn back time and allow her to send him off with a nod and pat on the shoulder. Perhaps the outcome would have been the same: Edelgard would have attacked the monastery, taken over most of Fódlan, captured Rhea. Dedue still would have still traded his life for Dimitri’s, leaving his liege to wallow in misery for half a decade and rip out his own eye in a schizophrenic rage. Byleth would have remained comatose for just as long.

But at least she would have only had to mourn the loss of two souls instead of three.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I love making these two suffer. Inspired by the Camilla Cabello song by the same name; tried to make Byleth more relatable with her emotions. Her students bring out the best and worst parts of being human I guess :)  
Thanks for reading!


	7. Sylvain: Hickey Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri gets a hickey and Sylvain can’t help but tease him relentlessly for it.

It was a beautiful day at Garegg Mach Monastery; the sun was shining, it was pleasantly warm, and there was even a nice breeze. A gorgeous day would usually inspire Sylvain to invite an equally attractive woman out for lunch, but instead he was stuck in lecture.  _ Again. _

It wasn’t as it his professor was boring; Byleth was far more amusing than Hanneman and went off on far fewer outraged rants than Manuela, but school was still school. While he could remain on task during physical drills, tactics and hypotheticals were simply too abstract for his taste.

As of such, Sylvain allowed his eyes to wander, studying each of his classmates in great detail. Ashe was scribbling furiously in his notebook... Annette was looking confused as ever... Ingrid was flipping him the bird... Dimitri was...

Wait,  _ what in the world. _

On the blond’s neck, directly above where the collar of his undershirt met the edge of his uniform, there was a small, red welt. If it were else taking notice of the the mark perhaps it would have been overlooked, brushed off simply as some sort of rash or irritation. Sylvain was too schooled in the art of love, however, to recognize it as anything less than a hickey.

The red-head began to fidget in his seat, feeling a surge of excitement rise in his chest. Never would he have imagined to find his favorite stick-in-the-mud prince in lecture with a hickey on his neck, especially before someone like Ashe or even Felix! In fact, after Dimitri’s failed attempt at dating a woman from the Officer’s Academy, Sylvain was shocked the blond hadn’t sworn off love all together (it certainly seemed like something he would do).

Having taken notice of Sylvain’s (and Mercedes’ and even Felix’s) restless squirming, Byleth let out a sigh before dismissing the class for lunch. Before the words could even finish coming out of her mouth, Sylvain had rocketed across the room.

“Hey Dimitri, what’s  _ that? _ ” he inquired, leering at the blond as innocently as possible. “Did you get punched in the neck or somethin’?”

The prince looked puzzled for a few moments, pausing in the middle of gathering his papers to press two fingers to his neck. “Whatever do you mean? I-“

Then, a look of realization, of mortification. 

_ ‘Oh,’ _ it seemed to say.

“Th-this?” Dimitri stuttered out, gesturing vaguely at the mark. His face was becoming redder by the moment. “Yes, just something I picked up during the last battle. I’m certain you know how easily pale skin bruises and all.”

Sylvain smiled mischievously, leaning back against the desk behind him. Bingo. “Jeez, must have been a pretty rough fight if the enemies were resorting to using their lips and teeth to wound you.”

“It certainly was,” Dimitri replied far too quickly, attempting to hide his flustered cheeks with his bangs. “In fact, professor and I- hold on, wait one moment-“

“Oh, so it was PROFESSOR attacking you? With her mouth?” Sylvain teased, gently punching his friend in the shoulder. “Damn, who would have known out of all of us, you would be the one hot for teacher.”

Looking incredibly uncomfortable, Dimitri shook his head rapidly. “N-no that’s not what I m-meant at all! You are taking my words completely out of context.”

Ah, Dimitri’s stutter had made a surprise appearance , a sure sign of his anxiety. Sylvain had the prince right where he wanted him. “Okay, okay let me get this straight. You and the professor were battling... with your mouths... over something and you pissed her off enough that she went for your throat with her teeth.”

“No! No, that’s not-!”

“Dimitri?” A soft voice cut in, cutting off the blond’s exclamation. “I’ll be waiting for you in the courtyard whenever you are ready. I made sure to pick up some of your favorite chamomile tea on my way to class this morning.”

Byleth stood a several feet away, holding a basket filled to the brim with several baked good, teacups, and a kettle. Her eyes were bright and voice sweet, a look she rarely look on during class.

“Ah, of course Professor, thank you,” Dimitri replied almost bashfully, scratching at the welt on his neck. “I promise to be with you shortly, I just have to finish explaining this battle formation to Sylvain.”

“Take your time,” Byleth replied, giving a small nod. Then, before she exiting the classroom, she paused. “Sylvain, make sure to get that cut on your arm looked at by a medic during lunch, we don’t want it to get infected during training later.”

“Yes ma’am,” the the red-head replied, shooting her retreating form a bright smile. “Anything for you.”

After ensuring Byleth was far gone, Sylvain turned back to Dimitri. 

“Ahh, ooooh Professor,” he mimicked, waving his hands around his face dramatically. “Please Professor, let me fill you up with my hot.... tea.”

Sylvain burst into peals of laughter as Dimitri shoved him roughly against the desk, storming out of the room with a huff. 

_ ‘Worth it _ ,’ Sylvain thought to himself as he rubbed his aching back. Besides, the ladies just  _ loved  _ to pamper a man with an injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read something about hickies and my head started spinning with thoughts of 17 year old Dimitri getting hickies from his professor. If you have time, please leave kudos or a comment, it is greatly appreciated!!


	8. The Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the day, Byleth just couldn't save Dimitri.
> 
> Alternatively: There’s just too much that time cannot erase.

Manuela had once told Byleth that sicknesses of the brain were often the worst to treat. Although medicine had advanced at a breakneck pace the last several decades, little could be offered to relieve mental anguish. You could counsel and comfort and prescribe to your wits end, but the most severe patients often ended up dead by their own hand. Such anecdotes had seemed distant and irrelevant to Byelth at the time, the young archbishop more focused on caring for those injured in war, but its significance became more apparent when Dimitri began to descend back into madness. 

It had started out innocently enough as training sessions running late into the night, followed soon by early morning paperwork. Before Byleth could realize just what was happening, Dimitri was calling for the eradication of all those related to Edelgard.

“But darling, doesn’t such a decree include you?” Byleth had inquired one evening, watching from the doorframe of their washroom as her husband scrubbed aggressively at his hands.

Dimitri had paused, palms hovering just above the water in the basin; Byleth could practically see the gears chugging away in his head. 

“I suppose you are correct,” the blond finally answered, leaning in to peer more closely at the raw skin of his lower arms. The obsession with washing had started rather recently, suspiciously after a visiting lord had made a snide comment about their king’s unsavory past. While Byleth had yet to ask specifically about the habit, she suspected it may have to do with washing away sin.

Dimitri had not come to bed that evening, which hadn’t seemed odd considering his recent routine. Finding him impaled on Areadbhar the next morning, however, was certainly a shock, almost more so than discovering she was four months pregnant a moon later.

“Mother, is something the matter?”

Byleth felt her breath catch in her throat, looking over to her son. Alexei stood against the door of her study, blankie clutched in between pudgy fingers. He was all blonde hair and bright blue eyes, an absolutely spitting image of his late father. Despite her best efforts, his hair even fell about his shoulders in a fashion very similar to that of Dimitri’s as a child.

“Darling, what are you still doing up?” she called to the toddler, motioning him over with a wave of the hand. “It’s very late.”

“I was having nightmares, mother,” he whimpered, lifting his arms as a signal to be picked up by his mother; Byleth complied with little resistance. “The same ones I always do.”

Byleth felt dread pool in her stomach, moving to brush back her sons bangs. There had been rumors of Dimitri’s mother not dying in childbirth, but rather taking her own life soon after delivery of her son; some muttered that as a result, her insanity had been passed onto Dimitri, and now that Dimitri had completed suicide, the passage of mental illness would continue. With how frequently Alexei woke in cold sweats after terrifying dreams- so similarly in fashion to how Dimitri had- some primal part of her feared it was true. After all, stranger things had happened.

“Worry not, mother is here little one,” she soothed instead, kissing her son on the crown of the head. “I will always keep you safe.”

Perhaps she had been unable to save Dimitri from that elusive sickness, but Sothis be damned if she would allow it to take their son as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't even read this over for errors so sorry if there are any particularly jarring ones; in a very dark place today so wanted Dimitri to be there too. Thanks for reading, please leave kudos or comments if you have time.


	9. MakeDamnSure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9: 'You hollow out my hungry eyes.'

Their relationship was... strange, to say the least. 

Dimitri had been her neighbor as a child; with his thick blond hair and blue eyes, he was as close as one could come to the male equivalent of a ‘girl next door’ trope. His parents were wealthy, much more so than her own, and had an expansive estate. Even to this day, Byleth looked back fondly upon the evenings she spent in the Blaidydd’s home, listening to CD’s on their expensive sound system or munching on hot dogs near the pool.

Then, things had gotten complicated. Dimitri’s mother disappeared around the same time as dark welts had appeared on her sons throat. Lambert stopped extending dinner invitations to the neighbors, locking himself in his study whenever he wasn’t at work or entertaining his new wife. Dimitri did his best to mend the cracks in their glass house, but he too eventually shattered; after a confusing incident involving several ambulances and a blood-soaked Patricia being escorted off of the property, the Blaiddyd estate had been sold off without preamble. Just like a feather in a wind storm, Dimitri was gone.

But now... now he was _here_, laying with _her_ in _her_ shitty apartment. They had met briefly in a jukebox bar after matching on Tinder, but wasted only a few minutes in the hellhole. Upon setting her eyes upon the blond, with his pale skin and defined cheekbones, something inside her snapped. Byleth knew she needed him, needed to break him down to appease the carnal beast that had raged within her chest since he had left years before.

It wasn’t love, at least she didn’t think so; the love she had experienced in the past had never felt so red, so violent red. Dimitri was a shattered mess of a man, someone who had never completely healed from childhood trauma. More than anything, she wanted to crush him further, to break apart his pieces into the finest sand. Then, only then when all that remained was atoms, could they work to build him back up.

The process would be long, Byleth was certain as she felt the blond grip her right hand with his own. One of them was trembling, but at this point it was hard to tell who. They were close, closer than ever before; this time she wouldn’t let him stray too far.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh sorry this is kind of vague but oh well. Feeling a certain way.


	10. Intoxicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An intoxicated Dimitri decides to make a late night visit to his wife.

It was late one evening when Byleth heard a commotion outside of her office. Having been unable to sleep without Dimitri by her side, the archbishop had made a prudent decision to grind away at paperwork until her insomnia subsided. Things had been going well until the sounds of breaking glass and loud cursing permeated the air.

She had immediately risen, clutching her favorite dagger- a wedding gift from Dimitri- between trembling fingers. As the door shook on its hinges, she tried to take her mind off the fact that her lacy chemise offered little to no protection against potential invaders. “Who’s there? Be aware I am armed and will not hesitate to take you out if need be.”

Despite her warning call, the door handle continued to rattle and the cursing only intensified. As silly as it would seem later, the sole thing on Byleth’s mind was how embarrassing it would be for her corpse to be found practically naked. Mortifying headlines such as ‘_Raunchy Royalty: Faerghusian Queen Found Dead in the Nude_’ and ‘_Amorous Archbishop Axed in Sleep_’ flashed through her mind as the door flew open with a sharp _'crack'._

“Hello my beloved,” Dimitri breathed out, swaying gently on his feet. The top few buttons of his dress shirt were undone, showing off an array of white scars and skin flushed pink. He appeared to be missing a shoe, but paid it no mind as he stumbled into the room. 

“Dimitri,” Byleth sighed in relief, allowing her shoulders to sag. With hurried steps, she made her way towards her much larger husband, mildly concerned about the way he appeared to stumble over his own two feet. “I thought you were out with Sylvain and Felix.”

“Mmm, I was, but then Ingrid showed up and... uh...” Dimitri trailed off, his single blue eye drinking in her form like a man dying of thirst. “I like your outfit, it looks...nice.”

Byleth hummed noncommittally, tossing her dagger back onto her messy desk. “Thanks. How did you end up here anyways? My office is quite a walk from the reception hall.”

This time Dimitri didn’t even bother to respond, licking his lips as he gawked at his wife unabashedly. Such behavior was out of the norm for the usually shy king who typically preferred to comment on her kind smile or warm hands.

(_‘He babey,’_ she had heard Annette hiss at Felix once, scolding him for a particularly caustic comment aimed at Dimitri. Byleth wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it seemed appropriate.)

“Dimitri..?” Byleth intoned gently, noting the way his fingers drummed against his thigh nervously. 

“I was... well I’ve been thinking about your breasts,” he muttered shyly, avoiding eye contact by staring at the wall behind her. The response didn’t make a great deal of sense, but clearly gave an apt picture as to where his mind was at.

Byleth felt her own cheeks flush, but still took Dimitri’s hand from where is was clutched at his side. Slowly, ever so slowly, she placed his palm against the her chest. “They are rather nice, aren’t they?”

Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, Dimitri nodded shortly. “Yes.... your nipples are quite pert...”

Leaning in more closely to her husband, Byleth couldn’t withhold a whine as he began to circle the bud with the tip of his finger. “You know, I’ve been waiting for you, love. The bed is so incredibly lonely without you to share it with...”

“Is that so?” Dimitri growled lowly, his words followed by a small hiccup. He had leaned the majority of his weight against Byleth, and his erection was pressed hard and hot against her belly as a result. “Well, I suppose I could offer some comfort in that regard...”

The archbishop pressed her hips against Dimitri’s muscular thigh, guiding his free hand to grope at her behind. “Is that so? What do you think you would do?”

Although his breath was hot against her neck and hands splayed across her curves, Dimitri once again failed to reply. Annoyance began to prick at the edge of Byleth’s consciousness; he bursts into her office all hot and bothered, scaring her half to death and breaking precious artifacts in the process, and couldn’t even-

There was another hiccup, followed by a soft groan. Or was that a snore? Adjusting herself as to more fully take in Dimitri’s appearance, Byleth couldn’t help but sigh. The young king’s eye was closed and his facial expression appeared at ease. He had fallen asleep.

Wonderful.

—

Dimitri would spend the next few weeks attempting to make up for his ‘heinous’ comments and actions; Byleth couldn’t be more amused and continued to wear lacy lingerie every night, much to her husbands chagrin.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhh I strongly stan a drunk Dimitri and also I'm sorry this is basically a shit post LOL thank you for reading.


	11. Tenebrosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite Dimitri's theatrics, Byleth still forgives.

Just like the living, the dead had their preferences. His father, for instance, often bothered him on the eve of battles, whereas his stepmother preferred to chant on nights when the moon rose high in the sky. Unfortunately for Dimitri, cooler weather brought out almost all of the specters of the deceased, and tonight happened to be particularly chilly. 

He hadn’t planned to head to Byleth’s quarters, especially not after his melodramatic performance earlier in the day; women tended to dislike men who broke up with them for no reason, or so explained Sylvain after finding his childhood friend moping in the Cathedral. Dimitri hadn’t meant to end his relationship with their previous professor, but the demons in his head had been shrieking particularly loudly and he felt as if it would be unfair to her to have to live her life with such a broken man. Despite the best of his explanations, however, Byleth had just shrugged and walked away from him nonchalantly.

Now Dimitri stood in front of her room, trying not to think too hard about the fact that his brain had automatically directed him to Byleth’s side; despite his recently rediscovered humanity, it seemed as if he still reverted to more animalistic tendencies in moments of crisis. So distracted by such thoughts- and focused on how silently he could shift his weight from one foot to another- Dimitri failed to notice the rustling coming from the chamber in front of him until the hinges of it’s door were creaking. 

There, behind the heavy oak door, stood Byleth Eisner. Although her eyes were squinted against the harsh blaze of his candle, she appeared rather alert; from behind thick glasses, her eyes roved his body, cooly appraising his disheveled state.

“Hello Dimitri,” she greeted lowly, smiling just barely as the blonde man flushed a soft pink “it’s rather late for you to be up, no?”

Dimitri felt his mouth go dry. Byleth’s uncanny ability to sense his presence wasn’t what left Dimitri speechless, but rather the light-blue t-shirt and short combo she was sporting. The outfit was far too large for her, practically drooping off her slim form, but left little to the imagination. He could recognize his academy loungewear anywhere; it had been his favorite outfit on both himself and Byleth (although for practically opposite reasons).

“Pr-Professor,” he stuttered out, brushing away the hair from his good eye as if it had some impact on what he was seeing. “Good evening.... aren’t those my clothes?”

The woman glanced down at her attire before directing her gaze back towards Dimitri. “Probably. They are comfortable.” 

“I-I see,” he commented lamely, attempting to swallow the lump that had grown in his throat before continuing. “I apologize for the late hour, and I certainly don’t mean to bother you, but uh.... well I suppose I’m just looking for company.” 

Byleth stared at him for a long moment- it certainly felt like the longest of his life- before stepping to the side. “Well, I am here to serve, Your Highness. Please come in, perhaps we could-”

“No,” Dimitri interjected, shaking his head. “I didn’t come here as your King, but as your.... friend. My actions earlier were incorrigible, and I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I will ask for it nonetheless.”

He sucked in a deep breath, hoping that Byleth would speak, would quell the insecurity stirring in his belly; whether it be by pardoning his sin or by demanding he leave her sight, his consciousness was searching for a logical reaction.

Still, Byleth did not utter a word, staring him down with those calm, moss-colored eyes. She had always been like this, unflappable where he was on edge; it was one of many qualities he admired greatly in his ex-professor, although right now he was cursing her placid expression to the heavens. 

Finally, his nerves got the better of him. “Coming here was a mistake, I’m truly sorry. If you’ll excuse me...”

Just as he turned on his heels to leave, to rebuild the walls he had allowed her to dismantle brick-by-brick, thin fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“If I were so easily dissuaded by caustic remarks, you would still be in that cathedral, covered in five years of grime,” Byleth stated evenly, tugging Dimitri’s arm as a signal to turn towards her once more. “I speak to you now as an equal; I always have and always will.”

There was a pause, during which Byleth slid her hand from Dimitri’s wrist to grasp his hand tightly; her palm felt warm against his own.

“As your friend, your ally in all things, I’m inviting you to join me tonight.”

Dimitri felt his face heat up once more, rubbing at the back of his neck abashedly. Of course she would forgive him, he was silly to think otherwise. Byleth continued to lead, and he would follow blindly until the end.

“...thank you Byleth,” he muttered lowly, allowing her to lead him into her dim quarters. It smelled of vanilla and almonds, just like she did. “It means more to me than you know.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhh I just wanted an excuse to write about the DLC content. Thank you for reading.


	12. On Some Emo Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12: What do you do when the love of your life disappears into thin air? Assume it's spontaneous human combustion? Not Dimitri. Modern AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a modern AU where Dimitri and Byleth were friends as teens in HS; Dimitri was totally falling for Byleth but was too shy to say anything... then she disappears! He spends the rest of his HS looking for her and this continues into college... he's obsessed. Adrestia University is in a desert climate) while Faerghus is more mid-western or southern U.S. ; This is that universe. This was vaguely based off the song ' On Some Emo Shit' by blink-182; listening to it would prob help set the scene and also it's a great song.

More than anything, Dimitri hated rainless, cloudy days. There was nothing more pointless than condensation rolling in from the sea, only to hover menacingly above parched desert terrain. Everything here in the Empire was… dead, so opposite that of Faerghus that it made his heart ache with homesickness. If attending college at Adrestian University had taught him anything, it was that he really didn’t appreciate his homeland enough.

It was fitting, really, that Byleth would end up leading him to a place like this.

He sat slouched on one of the metallic bus-stop seats, trying to ignore the sorority girl making goo-goo eyes in his direction; she was in his organic chemistry class, he remembered vaguely, one of the students who stayed in the back of the lecture hall and gossiped with friends instead of taking notes. She was a pretty girl; perhaps if she was more studious, more dedicated to her goals, he would be more interested.

(Or at least that’s what he tried to convince himself).

Only one woman had ever truly caught his attention, and that woman was Byleth. Although they had spent only a handful of months together, her diligence in accomplishing her goals and mesmerizing smile had completely swept him off his feet. Too shy to voice his affections, the spark between them had never ignited into anything more than subtle flirting; by the time he had developed the courage to admit anything out loud, she was gone.

Her ability to vanish into thin air, as if she had somehow just ‘poofed’ off the face of the Earth, astonished him to this day. The two of them had been hanging out every day, trapising between museums and zoos and parks in an attempt to quench Byleth’s insatiable desire to learn. Then, one day, she just stopped coming around. His texts went unanswered and calls directly to voicemail until her number was completely disconnected. Dimitri knew himself to be emotional, someone who grew attached to people easily, but even the callous Felix would never go as far as to abandon his friends with nary a word.

Perhaps he had just been a burden to Byleth, some annoying young punk that had stuck to her like glue. Maybe he felt a connection that wasn’t really there, misread her offers to hang out as interest rather than an attempt to push him away. Sometimes he found himself scanning the photos of mutual friends on Facebook, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman in the back of their recent photos; even if Byleth hated his guts, Dimitri had to know she was okay. That would be enough.

As yet another bus passed without stopping, anxiety began to creep up his spine; despite paying out the ass for tuition, their university wouldn’t even provide adequate transportation for its students. He showed up to the stop over an hour early each day, only to barely make it to class on time. The constantly shitty weather coupled with the university’s inability to procure adequate transport for its students only served to worsen his mood.

His childhood friends had attempted an intervention at the beginning of the Fall semester, with Sylvain dramatically ripping his only photo of Byleth off the wall.

“She’s gone man, she’s not comin’ back,” the red-head had proclaimed, quickly slipping the discolored paper into Dimitri’s personal paper shredder. “I know you loved her, but you gotta stop this nonsense.”

Dimitri had simply clenched his fists, turning to stare blasely out the window of his apartment. “Byleth has nothing to do with my enrollment here, Adrestian University has one of the best-.”

“That’s bullshit,” Felix had suddenly interjected from where he stood, stalking up to Dimitri. “You hate this god-forsaken place, I have to listen to you bitch about it all the time. Admit it, the only reason you are here is because you heard her father was employed by the university.”

There was a pregnant pause, with tension practically palpable in the air. Dimitri knew, deep down, that what his friends were saying was true, but it was difficult to admit all his efforts had been for nil. How could he give up on Byleth after he had tried so hard? She was so close, he could practically tas-

“We’re just worried about you, Dimitri,” Ingrid finally spoke, coming to stand on the side opposite of Felix. “We know you love Byleth, but you’ve been giving so much of yourself for a woman that hasn’t been seen in years. I understand this is hard, but she probably isn’t going to come back. Please consider coming back home.”

Faerghus, they wanted him to transfer back to Faerghus. Half of his mind recoiled at the thought, coming home with only the shame of failing to show for his miserable semesters spent at Adrestia. Another part of him, perhaps the more rational portion, begrudgingly admitted it was a good idea. He would be in a familiar place, back with his old friends and access to his lifelong therapist. Maybe, if he was lucky, the afterimages of Byleth in his life would stop too.

So, Dimitri agreed to begin the process of transferring; if he did not find Byleth at Adrestia by the end of the Spring semester, he would spend the rest of his undergraduate career at Faerghus University with Felix and Ingrid and Sylvain. He would go back to his normal life with his normal friends and live a completely normal rest of his life. Without Byleth.

Finally, a bus pulled to the edge of the road nearest the stop, an LED sign adhered to its windshield indicating it was bound for the medical center at Adrestia. While such busses were typically less crowded and bound for the university, the riders were typically… eccentric. More than once Dimitri had been damned for eternity, and he had witnessed several fights between disgruntled passengers. He didn’t have the option of being picky, however, and thus rose to stand in line to board.

Dimitri loved Byleth. He had begun to practice giving up on her, accepting the fact that his unrequited feelings would likely pound in his chest until he was dead. He already hated overcast skies and waiting for the bus, so he figured his commute was an appropriate time to work through such emotions.

What he didn’t expect to see was a familiar pair of emerald eyes on a shitty, sketchy bus to Adrestia. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was close to just making Byleth the shitty bus driver.... lmao. This is over 1000 words but barely and I don't like it enough to make it a stand-alone piece. Dimitri is just a sad pining baby SORRY.
> 
> ALSO I have fallen in love with the concept of Dimitri... w/just a little bit of chest hair? JesSUs. Thank you for reading as always, comments and kudos.. pls spare some comments and kudos they are so appreciated! 
> 
> (P.S. I apologize if I haven't been responding to comments in a timely manner, I like to take time to respond and university has started back up so I have been jelly-brained frequently; I will get to them soon and they make me so happy! thank you!).


	13. Sylvain: Hickey Detective's Comeback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri isn’t the only one unskilled at hiding love bites; Sylvain is back on the case.

It felt like deja vu; once again, it was a beautiful day at Garegg Mach Monastery and once again, Sylvain was stuck inside. The subject matter this time around was far more serious- war had a tendency to be that way, regardless of circumstance- but the main players were the same. Annette and Ashe were paying apt attention to Byleth as she spoke, Felix staring blankly out the window. Ingrid was alternating between glaring at Sylvain and munching on some sweets baked by Dedue and Mercedes, whereas His Highness was making goo-goo eyes at the Professor. Although five years had passed, it seemed as if little had changed. 

Sylvain found himself doodling on the parchment Gilbert had provided; although it’s original purpose had been a place to jot down notes, the meeting was dragging on much longer than expected. While he was quite invested in war tactics, Byleth has been droning on and on about trade routes for what felt like hours now. To be frank, he didn’t really care whether merchant A or merchant B was given the contract to sell wares at the monastery; both had similar prices, so the point seemed moot. Still, Seteth and Dimitri appeared concerned about the manner, and Sylvain was old enough to know not to interrupt. 

After a particularly harsh kick from Ingrid under the table, Sylvain finally refocused his gaze on their old professor. Byleth was dressed in casual loungewear, the same they had been given as students at Garegg Mach so many years prior; although the outfit was modest, it gave access to the collarbones Byleth typically hid behind her normal uniform. As of such, the red-head almost missed the purplish welt just visible above the fabric.  _ Almost. _ Upon realizing just what it was, however (and just who had likely left it), Sylvain felt excitement burble up in his chest. Suddenly, he was twice as anxious to finish the meeting.

After what felt like an eternity, Gilbert rose to close the council. In an attempt to remain inconspicuous, Sylvain spent a few moments ruffling his scratch paper before calling out to Byleth. “Professor, could I speak with you for a sec?”

Although Byleth didn’t look up from what she was doing, the subtle nod of her head was all the encouragement the red-head needed. 

“I just wanted to check in and see how you are doing,” Sylvain began, coming to stand on Byleth’s left side. “This war has been tough on everyone, and we haven’t had a chance to chat recently.”

Byleth glanced up from the papers she had splayed on the war-table. Although she gave him a small smile, her expression was guarded; she was well-aware of his tendency to flatter his way into getting what he wanted. “It’s kind of you to keep me in your thoughts, thank you Sylvain.”

“Of course, Professor. I’m especially grateful that you were able to bring His Highness back to us,” he remarked casually, giving her a goofy grin. “The sane His Highness, that is.”

Byleth let out a soft sigh, moving a hand up to rub at her temple. “It was hardly just me, but thank you. I am pleased to have Dimitri back with us as well. He has always served to be a wonderful confidant and trustworthy ally .” 

“Yes, you two seem to partner up frequently during battles,” Sylvain noted, studying Byleth’s reaction. When she failed to outwardly respond, he continued. 

“Dimitri’s always had an odd proclivity of giving those close to him... utilitarian gifts, to say it nicely,” he explained, “I’m wondering if perhaps you’ve been the recipient of one recently? You two seem awfully close.”

Byleth hummed, amused. “I’ve yet to receive a dagger like Edelgard. Unfortunate, really, my personal favorite has become quite flimsy over the years. I’m sure he has access to a great deal of powerful weapons that belong to House Blaiddyd.”

_ ‘Bingo.’ _ She had walked straight into his trap.

“While that may be true, it isn’t exactly what I was getting at, Professor,” Sylvain replied, lowering his voice as to not alert those that still remained in the room of their conversation. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his thumb against a plum-colored bruise peeking out from under the collar of her shirt. “Perhaps you’ve been accepting a different type of dagger from Dimitri as of late?”

While the change in Byleth’s expression was infinitesimal, Sylvain had spent enough time around the woman to notice it. A minor wrinkle in her brow, the downturn of her lips, the scrunch of her nose. He had budged the immovable. To his surprise, however, she recovered quickly.

“Perhaps I have,” Byleth replied evenly, tilting her head in order to make direct eye-contact with the taller man. “Or maybe I’ve been borrowing him a dagger of my own.”

At a bit of a loss, Sylvain felt his jaw fall slack. There was nothing wrong with what she was suggesting, of course, but he really wasn’t enthused to be hearing about it. This was meant to be a light-hearted joke, not an inquest into Dimitri’s sexual preferences. “Uh, I-“

“Dimitri always been generous, I’m sure if you expressed your interest he may be willing to loop you into our exchange,” Byleth continued, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. “We could discuss it over tea, Dimitri’s of course.”

“You know, I think I’ll take a rain check on that one,” the red-head muttered, feeling his cheeks flush; he was getting the strange feeling he was the one being played with here, and it wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed. “I don’t want to intrude on your... personal time.”

Just as Byleth opened her mouth to respond, a barb on her tongue, a voice interjected. “By-Professor, a moment of time, if you would.”

Dimitri stood in the entryway of the council room, arms crossed and form as imposing as ever. Although his expression was serious, there was an emotion in his eye that was difficult for Sylvain to name, a mix of anxiety and enthusiasm. It was a look he hadn’t seen on the blond in some time, perhaps not since their days at the academy.

_ ‘Puppy love,’ _ Sylvain thought to himself,  _ ‘No, real love.’ _

“Certainly, Sylvain and I were just finishing up here,” Byleth replied quite casually, as if she hadn’t just been discussing sexual penetration just seconds earlier. The woman had always had an air of professionalism around her, regardless of context. 

“Y-yeah, definitely,” the red-head added, a still bit unnerved. “I’ll catch up with you two later.”

Dimitri nodded, turning to exit the room once more. “Thank you, old friend.”

Byleth took a few steps towards the doorway, clearly intending to follow, but paused momentarily to glance back at Sylvain. “Please let me know if you change your mind about what we talked about. I’ve heard you quite like dagger exchanges, at least according to Felix.”

With that, the light-haired woman made her way out of the room, leaving a stunned Gautier in her wake.

In the future, Sylvain decided at that moment, he would stick to picking on the easily flustered Dimitri. It was better for everyone that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back, back again. Sylvain's back, tell a friend
> 
> When I was writing this, the 'dagger' Byleth is referring to was a strap-on, but tbh you can take it however you want.
> 
> Thank you for reading as always!


	14. Forget-Me-Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14: A vignette about forgetting. Post-game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background: Byleth and Dimitri are married, will have a total of four kids. Dimitri lives mainly in Fhirdiad and Byleth goes back and forth as a result of being archbishop.

It had started out innocently enough, with Dimitri misplacing small things. A novel in the garden. An important set of documents. His eyepatch after a bath. The royal physicians had blamed the absentmindedness on a lack of sleep and stress- after all, Fódlan was in the midst of negotiations with the Sreng Clans and Byleth was six months pregnant; there was little time for the King to find much time to relax, much less sleep. Things would get better once things in the palace were less hectic, the doctors assured.

Still, Byleth worried. It was unlike Dimitri to forget anything, much less items of importance. He was a man obsessed with the past, one who was set on preserving the remnants of ghosts. Seeing him inadvertently crush his late father’s tea set, only to discard the shattered pieces with mild irritation, set the cogs in her mind into motion. What in the world had gotten into him? 

As seasons churned by, things had only gotten worse. Dimitri, who had helped raise their first two children with a stern but gentle hand, was quick to snap at their youngest. The twins knew little of the kind paternal figure their father had been. Public outings, which had once been common, began to dwindle until Dimitri only strayed from the castle on official business. Following a particularly long trip to Almayra, Dedue had stopped by Garreg Mach to visit his wife Mercedes, as well as speak to Byleth regarding an odd occurrence with his liege.

_ “His Highness wandered into dessert beyond the castle grounds, only to stare blankly into the distance,” Dedue had recounted, demeanor stoic. Still, Byleth didn’t miss the confusion crawling into the Duscarian man’s irises. “He was just... standing there. For hours.”  _

Byleth had nodded along to Dedue’s story, gently humming and placing her hand on the taller man’s shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort. She assured him that it was probably nothing, but would check in with her husband regardless; the stoic mask of the archbishop did not falter until Byleth was sure Dedue’s steps had faded, after which she slumped against the door to her chambers. Her tears wet the gauzy fabric of her dress, causing the skin beneath to itch incessantly. Still, she was proud of the fact she was able to manage the trembling of her fingers during the conversation. She may have been unable to control whatever was afflicting her husband, but at least she still had autonomic control of her own body.

The next time she visited Fhirdiad, Byleth made an attempt to covertly monitor Dimitri’s activities. It was far easier than it had been years before, during the war; their children and the castle staff tended to avoid the ever-increasingly irritable King unless strictly necessary. Additionally, Dimitri tended to wander around the castle grounds dazed, as if sleepwalking. He would pause to stare at some indiscriminate object, often for an extended period of time. When the blond did manage to break from the trance, the process would repeat with something a few meters further down the path. His inability to focus, and a seemingly lack of awareness of anything beyond the immediate area, was a bit pathetic. It explained why many recent reports from Fhirdiad were penned in Felix’s compact script rather than Dimitri’s cursive. 

Still, Byleth had been hesitant to deem her husband anything but well. Their eldest was currently enrolled at the Officer’s Academy, and she did not want to distract him from his studies. Much like his father, Yulian was prone to melancholy and excessive worrying; if he knew there was something amiss at home, he would insist on returning. Above all, Byleth knew Dimitri would want his children to be sheltered from any possible trauma associated with an early abdication.

“Beloved, have you seen my reading glasses?”

Byleth swallowed thickly, digging her fingers into the pale flesh of her thigh; the grip was strong enough that there certainly would be marks later. “I’m sorry, I have not. Perhaps check your office?”

From his place at the threshold of their bedroom, Dimitri made a pleased noise. “Ah, of course. You guide me even to this day, my love, I am incredibly lucky to have you.”

Unable to do anything but nod in response, Byleth slapped a free hand over her mouth in order to stifle a sob. Despite her best efforts, tears began to prick at the corners of her eyes as Dimitri’s footsteps faded down the hallway; the salty drops were quickly absorbed by a card haphazardly discarded on her armoire. The parchment was a rich navy, embezzled with the insignia of House Blaiddyd and Dimitri’s name; it had been a gift for her husband, celebrating their wedding anniversary. The wedding anniversary he had seemingly forgotten about. 

Pretending things were okay was certainly going to be difficult.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Early-onset Dementia is a bitch of a disease, and Dimitri lost the genetic lottery here. 
> 
> I thought of this after thinking back on my friend/neighbor who was tragically killed in a hit-and-run a couple years ago. Was thinking about how much it sucks to forget people and listening to the song 'Forget Me Not' by Boston Manor and was hit with the creativity bug. Thank you for reading, and let me know what you think; comments and kudos are very appreciated!


	15. Fever Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15: Byleth tends to a feverish Dimitri, only to find out more than she intended.

Dimitri had never been a frail child, but even his constitution could be pierced by illness in the very public Garreg Mach. The extensive number of visitors that passed through on the daily ensured there were plenty of germs; when coupled with hundreds of students sharing the same weaponry, sickness spread as easily as warm butter on bread. Still, Dimitri was stunned when Byleth commanded him to return to his quarters.

“You’re sick, and we don’t need other members of the class catching whatever has afflicted you,” she had stated evenly, pressing her palm to his forehead. “I’m going to ask Manuela to check on you later, so please try to remain in your quarters until then.”

“But Professor-“ Dimitri began, failing to hide the exasperation in his tone 

“No buts,” the older woman chided, “Now be on your way.”

Although he ruminated about missing lecture the entire way to his quarters, the blond would be lying to himself if he said his bed wasn’t a sight for sore eyes. Having woken up that morning soaked in sweat from a nightmare, his irritable mood was only compounded upon realizing it felt as if he was swallowing shards of glass. Dimitri had weighed his options, begrudgingly accepting that as house leader, he had a responsibility to attend class regardless of how shitty he felt. The part of him that had wanted to just curl back up within the cocoon of blankets on his bed was thankful for his Professors demand. 

After latching his door shut, Dimitri toed off his shoes and began the tedious process of peeling off his uniform. Gone were the graceful and methodological actions of a crown prince, replaced with those of a feverish teenage who felt as if he was boiling alive in his own skin. Rarely did Dimitri retire to bed before folding up his clothing, but today the haze in his mind was too thick to think of anything than climbing into bed. Thusly, his clothes ended up in a pile on the floor. 

As soon as his body hit the down-feathers of his comforter, the blond was out cold. For once his dreams were mostly devoid of terrors, his body focusing its energy on mounting an immune response against cellular invaders. Still, the sleep was fitful and left Dimitri more exhausted than before.

—

Having spent most of the day alone, falling into and out of unconsciousness, Dimitri was mildly surprised to wake up to a blurry form resting on the side of his bed. 

(Strangely enough, everything in the room seemed hazy too).

“Ah, so you’re finally awake,” a feminine voice spoke softly, emanating from the form. “You’ve been asleep for the past few hours, I was wondering when you would finally join the land of the living again.”

“‘M still tired,” he wheezed, “and hot.”

The- what appeared to be- woman hummed amusedly and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. “That makes sense. My father always used to say that fighting infection leaves the body as exhausted as someone who just fought off an army entirely on their own.”

Dimitri made a pathetic noise in response, the desire of maintaining some semblance of chivalry clashing with a strong want to go back to sleep. “Goin’ back to sleep now, hope you have a nice evening.”

“Oh no you don’t,” the voice insisted, ruffling his sweaty hair. “You need to eat so your body has energy to heal. Here, let me help you sit up.”

Dimitri sighed dramatically, but allowed the unknown individual to help him sit up. His vision remained foggy, but the slim, cool hands against his back and chest felt particularly nice; typically such intimate touching would cause him to flush, but he was feeling particularly loopy and didn’t really care. 

“You have nice hands,” he noted, taking a bite of the bread that had been shoved into his hands. “They remind me of the Professors.”

“Oh, is that so?” the woman inquired, tone remaining even. 

“Yup,” Dimitri stated, not bothering to finish chewing before continuing-despite how embarrassed his cognizant self would be later. “Her hands are slim and soft, but so incredibly strong. Whether it’s a practice lance or the Sword of the Creator, she handles everything with great dexterity. It’s awe-inducing.”

The figure moved off the edge of the bed momentarily, retrieving what sounded to be a tea-set of some sort. “It sounds like you admire your professor.”

“I do, she means quite a lot to me,” Dimitri murmured lowly. The stranger gently wrapped his hands around the cup she had retrieved, reveling in the feeling of steam clearing his sinuses. “It sounds a bit strange when I say it out loud, but I want to help keep her hands soft, to keep them safe.”

The hazy form nodded in response; Dimitri noticed how the light hair surrounding her face curved gently against high cheekbones. It was mesmerizing to watch, almost looking like....

No, it couldn’t be. Professor had far too many obligations to waste time on some sickly student of hers. He took a large gulp of the liquid in his cup to dispel the thought. 

“I’m sure she’s very grateful for that,” the voice finally stated. “And it seems as if she feels the same about you.”

Dimitri drained the remainder of the liquid from his cup. Whatever it was, it caused his tongue to tingle. “It’s a nice thought, but I doubt it. She has far more important things to worry about than a walking-disaster like myself.”

This time when the voice hummed, it sounded... disappointed. “I see.”

There was a long, pregnant pause during which the hazy form began to clean up the remnants of Dimitri’s meal. Feeling a bit awkward, the blond slid back beneath his covers and closed his eyes.

“I’m glad to see you are still willing to rest after dinner, I had a strange feeling you’d fight me about that,” the voice finally noted. The same slim hand from before brushed away sweaty blond strands from his forehead.

Dimitri sighed in contentment. “Hm, no, I need to recover so that I may return to class tomorrow. There are things I must do.”

Stepping back, the unknown person picked up her tray of goods before beginning to walk towards the door of Dimitri’s quarters; her heels clicked against the wood of his floor and she did so. “You are certainly motivated. Sleep well, sweet Dimitri, I will see you tomorrow.”

The blond would have responded were he not already asleep.

—

Feeling far more invigorated the next day, Dimitri was the first student to arrive to class. He greeted Byleth cheerily before moving to clean the chalkboard.

“You seem to be feeling better today, Dimitri,” Byleth commented offhandedly, focused on grading a stack of papers in front of her.

“I still have a bit of a cold, but my fever has broken, so I figured it was acceptable to return to class,” Dimitri replied, focused on scrubbing out a scratch on the board. “I hope that is acceptable to you, Professor.”

“It certainly is, Dimitri,” she hummed lowly, turning her gaze to his own. “I always feel better knowing you are there to watch my back.”

“T-thank you Professor,” the blond muttered back, breaking eye contact to stare at the floor. His cheeks were flushed and he rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully. “It means a lot.”

“After all,” Byleth continued without flinching, “not all of my students care about my hands as much as you.”

Dimitri decided at that moment he was still feeling a bit ill and returned to his room for the remainder of the day.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized I don't write too much pre-timeskip stuff so tried something here. Wrote thing instead of studying for my neurobiology midterm, please enjoy the fruits of my procrastination :)


	16. Pop Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16: Renown international pop-star Byleth Eisner is stunned to see what has become of her star pupil. Pop-Star AU.

_ “Thank you Adrestia, good-night!”  _

Upon exiting stage right, Byleth practically ran straight into her manager. Seteth was a stern man, drove her harder than any before him, but had helped her grow significantly. Her popularity had skyrocketed after the man had joined her team, helping her transition from teen idol to mature superstar. She would not be where she was today without his help (nor that of Flayn, or Rhea, or- ). 

“Seteth,” she greeted, accepting the towel a stage-hand offered. She was still dripping in sweat from her performance, a harder cardio workout than most would ever partake in. “How was it?”

“You were phenomenal as usual, Byleth,” Seteth praised, although the emotion didn’t reach his emerald eyes. “We need to work on that lift near the end, but that is more of an issue for the dance team than you.”

“Well I think Lorenz and Claude did great, I doubt anyone really noticed such a small error,” she replied easily, rubbing her scalp with the towel. 

“Yes, but we have to-“ the man began, before realizing he was losing her interest by the moment. “Regardless, I’ve come to bother you so quickly after your performance for a reason. There’s a ridiculous-looking man backstage claiming to know you personally. I tried to send him away, but he claims the two of you are old friends of some sort.”

Byleth raised her eyebrows; letting strangers backstage was something Flayn had a tendency to do, especially if they had some sort of sob story. Seeing Seteth involved, however, was peculiar to say the least. “Is that so...”

“Yes well, I would usually turn such a person away, but they had a similar pendant to the one you own, the lion insignia one,” the green-haired man explained. “I’m uncertain of the meaning, but I know it has some significance to you.”

“A lion...?” Byleth muttered out loud, wracking her brain for such a symbol. The only lion-themed item she owned was from her days teaching at Garegg Mach, the Blue Lions Brooch from Dimi-

No. It couldn’t be.

“Where is he?” Byleth inquired lowly after taking a moment to catch her breath. She hoped the anxiety she felt bubbling in her belly wasn’t reflected in her tone. “The man, I mean.”

“I believe he’s in your dressing room, but please be careful, he seems quite volatile and-“

“Thanks Seteth,” the fair-haired woman called as she took off down the hallway, practically sprinting. It had been years since she had heard from him, only rumors alerting her to his continued existence. Her best friend, her greatest confident...

“Dimitri?”

As the door to her dressing room creaked open, Byleth was mildly surprised to see a long-haired, burly looking man sitting on the white-leather couch. Dimitri had never been particularly in-tune with modern styles, but he was always clean-cut. This man in her room, this stranger, had long shaggy hair and a pierced lip. His arms were completely covered in tattoo sleeves and a dark patch covered his right eye. 

“Professor,” the man greeted amiably, leaning back on the couch to rub at his chin appraisingly. “Things certainly have changed, hm?”

Byleth felt her mouth go dry.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would... would anyone like to see more pieces set in this universe? Guilty pleasure of mine is pairing pop princesses with punk rock band vocalists so... I wouldn't complain... 
> 
> As always, thank you for reading :)


	17. Punk Prince

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17: Byleth wants to support Dimitri, but the number of teenagers wearing black in this club is highly unnerving. Pop-Star AU.

Saying the club was dingy was a polite way of putting it. The room was nothing more than a rectangular concrete pit, with the piping clearly visible in the ceiling. There were only two doors for the entire room, so if there was some sort of emergency, a tragedy would be inevitable. Still, the atmosphere was friendly enough and everyone in attendance seemed happy enough to be there. 

The process of getting here, to this point, was a whirl-wind; she had launched herself at Dimitri upon seeing him in her dressing room, had marveled at his changed appearance. He was handsome as ever, although in a different way than before. She couldn’t help but bite her lip before inquiring about his whereabouts the last half-decade.

_ “We were fuc-“ Dimitri began, quickly changing his verbiage upon seeing Byleth’s disapproving look, “-we were fooling around and someone ended up getting stabbed The cops showed up and everyone got booked. Ultimately I was sent to prison for drug possession and some other petty offenses.” _

_ “Then this...?” Byleth inquired, tracing her fingers lightly across the tear-drop tattoo under his left eye; she was more than cognizant of its meaning.  _

_ Dimitri sucked in a hard breath as he pulled away, bangs obscuring his good eye. “Prison is a tough place, Byleth, and I’m not a good guy. Same fight took my eye.” _

_ “I see,” she remarked cooly. “Well, life happens like that sometimes.”  _

_ The look on his face when she squeezed his hand set her heart aflutter in a million different ways. _

He had invited her to his show at the tiny venue she stood in now. It was far different than any place Byleth had been in for years, with lax security and people smoking openly (apparently the bouncers didn’t get paid enough to care). She had tucked her tell-tale mint hair beneath a hat in a pathetic attempt to hide her identity, but she doubted anyone here would recognize her anyways; the crowd was composed of dozens of teenagers and young-adults, dressed mostly in black. The few adults who were in attendance were pressed against the bar, likely parents catering to (what they hoped was) their child’s most recent phase. Although a bit outside her comfort zone, Byleth found herself relieved to not be mobbed by zealous fans at every moment.

In the remaining minutes before the show began, Byleth found herself exchanging texts with her best friend and most talented back-up dancer, Claude.

**Claude:** so, you gonna get the d tonight? 

**Byleth:** Excuse me?! Just who do you take me for?

**Claude:** oh come on, he’s pretty cute.

**Claude:** he had big hands too, me noticed.

**Claude:** you know what they say about men with big hands ;)

**Byleth:** ur the worst, never talk to me again.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the massive crowd in front of Byleth seized forward; a pair of young girls, holding a sign that read ‘Dimilix 4ever’ to her right began waving the cardboard about wildly. A set of guitars began to strum, followed by the rhythmic beating of drums and a bass guitar. The tune was catchy, and Byleth began to hum along.

With a sudden blast of sound, the stage’s curtain fell and revealed a band, clearly the source of the music. A fair-haired man sat at the drum set, whereas the bassist was a cute red-head; he was winking and blowing kisses at fans before a dark-haired guitarist jogged up from behind and knocked his legs out. On the other side of the stage, a bulking man Byleth recognized as none other than Dedue, Dimitri’s best friend back in the academy, was strumming a chord lazily. From the front of the crowd, a chant began as the instrumentalists took their positions: ‘Di-ma, Di-ma, Di-ma!’

“Hellllooooo Adrestia!” A voice called over the speakers; from backstage, a mop of familiar blond hair appeared waving heartily at the crowd. Dimitri smiled widely with straight white teeth, one good eye scanning the crowd. He was looking for someone apparently, and that someone seemed to be Byleth as his the tension left his shoulders upon spotting her. Dimitri waved at her cheerily before allowing his eye to drift to the girls next to Byleth. He paused momentarily to read their sign, only to launch himself at Felix. The two shared a rather passionate kiss. 

Byleth felt her mouth go dry. 

(Perhaps she should ask Seteth to schedule her a doctors appointment; that seemed to be happening far more frequently than normal).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU was surprisingly popular I'm SHOOK bc this type of stuff is my life-blood. Uploading kind of early today since I have work tn. Please let me know if you would like to see this AU again in the future; thank you for reading!


	18. Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the nightmares are too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is very short but I enjoyed the prose so wanted to share. Thanks for reading.

When the shadows arrived on the 23rd day of the Ethereal Moon, Dimitri was weary, but unsurprised. Their appearance was much like clockwork now; he knew when they would arrive, and when they would depart.

“Relax, relax, I’m here,” she cooed softly, intertwining their fingers. Byleth’s hands had always felt warm, but now they were burning, scorching his tissue-paper skin. Without thinking, Dimitri jerked away.

“Leave me be, please,” he groaned, dropping his chin to his chest. The world was spinning, rotating on its axis in atypical ways; his stomach was clenched and queasy, with the afterimages of the dead burned into the back of his eyelids. 

Although she pulled back, Byleth remained at his side, humming ever so gently. She was used to these fits now, the way anxiety clenched his lungs as if a vice-grip. The tune that came from her throat was a familiar one, the same that she sang to their son, the same his mother had sung to him.

It was easy to get lost in the melody, easier than accepting the remarks barraging his ears. It was simple and rhythmic, flowing from his beloved’s lips like the heartbeat she didn’t have.

For tonight, it was enough.

  
  



	19. Spooky Szn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19: Edelgard decides her step-brother Dimitri should dress as a grappler for Halloween. Dimitri is mortified.   
Modern AU w/ungendered Byleth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU: Byleth is tutor/person professor of Edelgard, Dima, and Claude; Edelgard and Dimitri are siblings. Short and sweet, please enjoy!

“Is this some sort of twisted joke?”

He was shocked, flabbergasted, absolutely _disturbed_ by the Halloween costume his stepsister had picked out for him.

“Oh come on Dimitri, it isn’t that bad,” Edelgard replied, hiding her rather large grin behind a dainty hand. “I’m sure our professor will just _love_ it.”

“For sure she will, your Princeliness,” Claude commented from his position on Edelgard’s bed. He had his phone out, clearly taking video evidence of Dimitri’s mortification. “Who could resist those washboard abs?” 

Flushing a dark pink, Dimitri attempted to cover his abdomen by crossing his arms. The outfit was absolutely absurd, with a crop-top and what looked to be the equivalent of a skort. A large chain connected the two flimsy pieces of cloth; overall, it left very little to the imagination. 

“You two can’t seriously think-“

“Hey kids, what’s up?” A monotone called from the hallway. “Where are you?”

Dimitri felt his heart sink in his chest. Of course the one time Byleth would come looking for them instead of waiting for their arrival, he would be dressed like an absolute buffoon. He needed to get out of the outfit, and fast. 

Unfortunately for Dimitri, there was a knock on the doorframe followed by an audible snort.

“Uh, Happy Halloween to you Dimitri,” Byleth muttered, attempting (and failing) to maintain a blasé facial expression. It was quite easy to make out the quirked lips and wrinkles at the edge of pale green eyes. “I’ll um, I’ll meet you all downstairs once you finish... whatever this is.”

“For sure, Teach,” Claude replied easily, letting his phone drop to the bed spread. “We just gotta help Dima here out of his bondage gear.”

“Uh, okay,” Byleth replied before retreating down the hall.

If Dimitri had been more cognizant of Claude’s remark, if he hadn’t been fixated on how Byleth’s eyes had been glued to his abs, if he hadn’t been blindsided by their professors small smile, perhaps he would have been angrier. 

Maybe.


	20. Grand Piano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She didn’t take note of the affair until her 35th birthday.

She didn’t take note of the affair until her 35th birthday, when she had slunk into the dining hall to ask her husband whether he preferred navy or peach fabric. With elbows pressed against the long dining table, Dimitri had his fingers tangled in the ashen hair of a young maiden; it didn’t take a genius to realize the sorts of things he was whispering in her ear with how flustered her cheeks were. Byleth’s mouth had gone dry, and she left the room as silently as she had entered. Only after she endured her birthday celebration, the concerned looks from Mercedes and Hilda, the sickening sweet touches from her unfaithful spouse, did his indiscretion finally hit her. In the carriage traveling back to Garegg Mach, Byleth finally allowed the tears to well in the corners of her eyes.

Music was a good outlet for her emotions she found, the ones she couldn’t express in court or while meeting with partitioners. Her mother had been the same way, one of the older nuns had explained one day, having been pruning the flowers in the chamber hall when Byleth had entered. 

_ ‘There are some things that must remain secrets between us and the goddess. Music is such a wonderful medium for that exchange, Your Grace.’ _

Was she the only one ignorant of Dimitri‘s infidelity? And what did such a statement imply about her father? 

She decided not to think about it, and instead focus on the keys in front of her.

(No matter how blurred they appeared). 

—

Byleth became known as an Archbishop prone to bouts of melancholy in the months following. While Seteth fretted about what such musings implied about the state of the church, the followers of Serios appeared to become more devout. Artists would fall at her feet, begging to draw or sculpt or paint her likeness while she sat upon the piano bench; it had become much like her own personal throne. There was rarely a day that the townsfolk of Garegg Mach didn’t hear Byleth’s melodious voice carrying tunes of ignorance, love, and loss. 

_ ‘The people are talking,’ _

_ ‘The people are saying’ _

_ ‘That you have been playing my heart’ _

_ ‘like a grand piano.’ _

_ ‘So play on, play on, play on.’ _

_ ‘Play on, play on, play on.’ _

_ ‘Play on, play on, play on,’ _

_ ‘Play on, play on’ _

Perhaps she should have been less surprised, then, when Dimitri appeared at the chamber’s threshold during one such performance. Their son was squirming in his arms, trying to be released so that he could barrel towards his mother, but Dimitri’s grip was strong. The king’s jaw was clenched just as tightly. 

“Byleth,” he practically whimpered, his one icy blue eye pained.

“Hey now,” she replied, tone as watery as her own emerald eyes. “Be a bit more gentle with your heir, he’s your only one... unless he’s not anymore.”

Dimitri sucked in a deep breath before dropping his head. “I’m sorry... for everything.”

All she found she could do was laugh and turn back to the black and white keys.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song is 'Grand Piano' by Nicki Minaj, which inspired this fic. I'm sorry I have been less active, school is kicking my ass. I I wanted to try making Dima the bad guy here... Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed.


	21. Kiss the Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercenary Byleth Eisner would have never imagined herself engaged to the addict-son of late King Lambert, but life loved to surprise her. AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where after a wacky series of events, Byleth ends up engaged to Dimitri bc of a contract. Jeralt is alive and still doing mercenary work with his daughter, Dimitri is an alcoholic who has a penchant for drugs... Insanity! Please enjoy.

“He’ll be cleaned up by the time of your wedding,” a petite blonde insisted, patting Byleth on the shoulder. “For now, all we need him to do is kiss the ring on your finger in front of the people.”

Byleth didn’t much care about what happened, but doubted the veracity of such a statement. Dimitri was passed the fuck out on the daybed in front of them, a line of drool slipping out of the corner of his mouth. His blond hair, which appeared neatly groomed and tidy in all of his official portraits, was greasy and askew. Had she not seen him blowing chunks earlier into a bucket, perhaps his flushed cheeks and pale complexion would have been more attractive, but now, the prince just seemed like a hot mess.

“And when is this supposed to happen, exactly?” Byleth questioned lowly, raising an eyebrow incredulously at the answer she received. 

“Well, right about now actually,” Mercedes giggled, pressing dainty fingers against pale pink lips. “Now, if you don’t mind...”

Without another word, Mercedes heaved herself against the slumbering prince, sending him careening to the floor. Dimitri did little more than groan as he was hefted to his feet. 

“Come now, Dimitri, its time to announce your engagement,” Mercedes cooed, reaching up to wipe spit from his cheek.

“Mmm, don’t wanna, just wanna sleep,” the young man muttered in response, falling back onto the bed and curling into a fetal position.

To her great credit, Mercedes just sighed and tugged Dimitri up once more. “Don’t like that in front of your fiancée, she’s going to think you are an absolute slob.”

“Who was it again, Bayleaf? Byloth?” Dimitri grunted, rubbing at his eyes with the palm of one hand.

“It’s Byleth, your majesty,” Byleth interjected, trying- and failing- to hide the irritation in her voice. “I would appreciate if you remembered this time.”

“Sure thing Blothe,” Dimitri grumbled, giving an exaggerated bow. “Anything for you.”

Byleth opened her mouth with the intent of hurling a sharp barb the prince’s way, but Mercedes spoke before she had the chance. 

“Now, now you two, this is only going to take a few minutes, please try to remain civil.”

Dimitri simply grumbled and readjusted his collar before holding out a single hand to Byleth. “Let’s get this over with.”

Byleth would be the first to admit that her tastes were, well, not very refined, but even she could appreciate the lavish ceremony. The balcony was decked out in blue and white roses, with beautiful banners hanging from the castle arches. Below, people ‘ooh-ed’ and ‘aw-ed’ when presented with their future queen, struck by her sea-foam hair and matching eyes. Even Dimitri, who had previously lead her mindlessly, seemed to become a bit more alive upon walking onto the beautiful scene. 

In fact, Byleth found her heart fluttering a when the prince dropped to one knee; his cerulean eyes were soft as if gazing upon the most precious treasure in the world. Softly, ever so softly, he whispered “For now and forever, my beloved.”

Had that moment been just that, perhaps Byleth could have learned to loved her new fiancé. Instead, she felt her stomach recoil.

Dimitri had thrown up all over her shoes.

Lovely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title comes from the MCR song of the same name.... god bless the princes' of darkness are back... This was quickly written so quality isn't my fav but had to get the idea out. Please let me know what you think, thank you for reading!


End file.
